


Nightmare

by ReineJuly



Category: Tales of the Abyss
Genre: Gen, but post planet core, pre-Eldrant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 23:30:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5685760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReineJuly/pseuds/ReineJuly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sync experiences progressively worse health after returning from the planet core.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmare

Something had started feeling strange after Van had revived him from the planet core. It started as a slight confusion, not being able to remember why he walked into a room or misplacing a favored pen. It certainly wasn't anything to make a fuss about and there was no way the younger God-General would bring up any of his issues with the on-site doctor. Dist was annoying enough when he didn't know anything, insufferable when he did have any ammo. So, like every other time, Sync stated his current condition as “fine”. Any further prodding (and there always was further prodding) was met with a stiff glare, much more effective now that he no longer needed to hide his face behind a mask.

The first spell of dizziness hit as he was dropping off a report to the archives officer. He managed to catch himself on the edge of a nearby desk and the weakness subsided as soon as it had come on. He was fine, just fine.

Of course, it progressed. It became a daily occurrence to be left standing in the middle of the hall with a stack of papers in his hands and not know how he got there or what these documents were for. That was simple enough to figure out, needing just a brief glance at the document code to recall what logical circumstance would have him moving these files around, and only met him with a concerned glance of whoever happened to be passing by at the moment. Possibly the worst case was day he was to give a speech to the remaining soldiers of the Order who hadn't fled when their true mission became apparent. It was only fifteen minutes before the presentation when the world swung sideways as darkness crept over his vision, his knees buckling and bringing him down to a sudden meeting with the stone floor. Fortunately Largo had been at his side and caught the boy before he hit and Legretta was able to stall the proceedings until Sync had regained his composure. Afterwords she had suggested for Sync to see a doctor but, being a replica, the only “doctor” Van allowed him to see was Dist, and Sync wasn't sure if that was yet another joke the Commandant liked to make at his expense. Either way, he was fine. It was just once.

Except it wasn't. It never was. Now was a terrible time to get sick, with plans for Eldrant well underway and moving quickly. There was no time for forgetfulness or confusion or fainting, especially not when Van relied on him to keep things orderly in his absence. When he couldn't ignore it any longer, Sync finally took a day to examine his situation to see if he couldn't figure it out alone. After all, he had learned all his other skills alone. Everything had a logical explanation that could be found from books and learned and conquered. The only problem being that he was a replica and replicas weren't in books. His recordings of after the planet core didn't show any connection between when these new defects would happen or why his body began to fail. Fonons came from the planet core, and replicas were made of fonons, but any separation of those fonons would happen as a gradual motion and not random starts, wouldn't they? Frustrated, Sync opted to do what he had always done: ignore what his body was telling him and keep working.

To his surprise, this worked for a week or two. He even began sleeping better, actually being tired when he went to bed and not waking up multiple times in the night. He was still tired in the morning, perhaps even more so, but the books said an improved sleep schedule was a sign of good health so the tiredness was shrugged off with another excuse as to why he was fine.

One morning a soldier passed him by in the foyer and asked him, “Still awake, sir?” Brushing this off a yet another memory lost to the forgetfulness (who needs all those useless memories anyway?) Sync dismissed him with an unintelligible grunt. Nothing made this encounter noteworthy until later that evening when Legretta came to his office to confirm their next steps forward.

“I understand Van has placed his trust in you and we are equals by title, but you'd do well to keep in mind who has more years of experience in this business.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” This was met with an incredulous look from the blonde, as if it should be obvious.

“Your attitude last night was unacceptable. It was quite unlike you, admittedly, so I'll let it go this time but I can't promise I'll be so forgiving if it happens again.” She left, leaving him with the uneasy feeling he thought he had previously suppressed.

Like his previous symptoms, this one grew into yet another burden. It progressed to a point where Sync was sure he must have developed a split personality, brought on by chronic stress or perhaps trauma from something or other. While Sync never prided himself on tact or politeness, this other personality had even less consideration for those around him. From what he gathered based on conversation snippets and one-off remarks from the other Generals, this personality was rude, demanding, and had a superiority complex. He never had to duck down a hallway to avoid others before now, but he didn't see a point in engaging in a fight for something he wasn't even sure he did. The most fun moments would be when he would turn a corner too sharp, the dizziness would creep in, and he would awaken somewhere else covered in bruises and scratches. From the looks of it, the other personality wasn't a very good brawler.

The time had finally come when Eldrant was ready for liftoff. The night before Sync and Legretta would leave to board the floating battleship, Van made his first appearance since the planet core. He confirmed the plans with both of them, then spoke to Sync privately.

“I've heard unsavory things about you, Sync.”

“...”

“I didn't expect you to falter during these crucial moments.” The swordsman sighed, pushing back his loose-hanging hair with one feathered arm. “Perhaps I expected too much from you.”

“I'll try harder, sir.”

“See to it that you do. You will be my last line of defense and I don't say that lightly. I expect you to perform.”

“Yes, sir.” Van reached out, placing a hand on the younger boy's shoulder.

“It shall be over soon.” Those simple words were best left alone, and Sync excused himself to go over the preparation reports one more time before turning in for the night.

While others might read a story about knights saving princesses to sooth them to sleep, Sync read the obituaries. Many of the names were familiar, for he himself had killed them. Soldiers who didn't obey, innocents who didn't move fast enough, none were given mercy. Areas of Malkuth that had been heavily hit required a stack of pages for the names of all the dead; the complete destruction of Akzeriuth was hardly anything compared to the toll the rest of the war had taken upon the world. It wasn't that he was proud, but seeing the mark he had personally left always made Sync feel better.

Tomorrow would be a big day and Sync's eyelids were drooping by the time he pulled himself into bed. He was always tired nowadays and it wasn't long before he found himself in that fuzzy area between awake and asleep. The Cathedral walls creaked as the wind blew strong through the mountains and a soldier's footsteps echoed soft to loud to soft as they passed by his door. Tonight the normally scratchy blankets felt like warm hands cupping his face, brushing a strand of hair away from his cheek. He leaned into the sensation, eyelids lifting just slightly as he felt a breath against his ear. Unfocused darkness, the same as he saw with his eyes closed. He assured himself he must have imagined it, until he heard the voice.

_“I am_ so _proud of you.”_

Sync jolted awake. For the briefest of moments, he stared at a ghostly reflection of himself. There was no one else who could own that smirk, those emerald eyes more stone than gem, and the hands that threw themselves at his face. He shrieked, arms flailing to push back but they met with nothing but air. The experience happened so fast that Sync wasn't sure it happened at all, hearing only his rapid breaths as he looked around the small room. Slowly he lowered himself back down, drawing his knees close to his chest and straining to hear or feel anything that would lead him to believe it wasn't just a dream. There was nothing to be felt, however, except the return of that strange feeling he had since the planet core. Nothing was heard either, except the voice in his head that wished him good night as the room dissolved into black spots and white noise.


End file.
